


Every Cloud

by VicXntric



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Episode Related, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-19 03:06:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13695594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VicXntric/pseuds/VicXntric
Summary: Takes place immediately following "Random Acts of Violence." With a little help, Warrick finds the silver lining.written in 2005





	Every Cloud

Warrick gripped the chain link squares so tightly he could feel his fingers pulse with tiny needles. The chained doors of the rec center blurred before his eyes and he had to blink several times before they swam back into focus. When he heard a vehicle pull up behind him, he briefly considered walking away, but decided that if it was someone there to lambast him, he deserved whatever was coming. 

Instead of angry recriminations, however, he heard a soft Texas drawl.

"C'mon, Rick. I'll take you home."

Warrick barely turned his head, only moving enough to see Nick from the corner of his eye. "How did you know where to find me?"

"Jim filled me in on what happened. Wasn't much of a mystery after that."

Warrick faced the rec center again.

"Sara came with me," Nick added.

For a split-second Warrick wasn't sure he'd heard correctly. His lip curled with anger because Nick should have _known_ he didn't want to see anyone--and Lord knew Sara would have some strong opinions about this. 

"She'll take the Tahoe back to the lab," Nick continued. "I'll drive you home."

Of course. Of course Nick _knew_. Warrick's shoulders slumped briefly before he dug into his pocket for the keys and dropped them into Nick's outstretched hand. He heard the jingle of keys being tossed, a door opening and closing, and then the Tahoe pulling away.

"Ready to go?" 

Tightening his fingers again, Warrick zeroed in on the heavy padlocks.

"Okay," Nick leaned his back against the fence. "Let me know when you're finished dwelling and want to think about actually doing something."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Warrick demanded, still surly.

Nick took no notice. He straightened again and stepped away from the fence, bumping Warrick's shoulder as he did. "Come on," was all he said as he headed for his truck.

"Nick," Warrick turned to watch him go. "Nick!" Growing angrier by the moment, he followed silently.

"You want a ride home or not?" Nick asked before climbing into his Ranger. 

Silently fuming now, Warrick stalked around to the passenger side, getting in and slamming the door so hard the entire truck shuddered.

"Easy on the framework," Nick commented mildly. That was all that was said for the entire ride.

In the silence, Warrick's anger began to fade, as much as he wanted to hang onto it. His anger was the only thing that had been keeping his guilt and sorrow at bay. By the time they arrived at his complex, Warrick's throat was so tight that he couldn't speak at all. 

Fortunately, Nick didn't need an invitation to follow Warrick up to his apartment.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Warrick pulled Nick against him, holding on as hard as he could and bending so he could press his face into Nick's neck. When he finally did find his voice, it was little more than a hoarse whisper. "What did I do? Oh, Jesus, Nick...I can't believe what I've done..." 

Nick returned the embrace with equal force, and his voice was soothing, even if his words couldn't be. "I know. I know, Rick."

As Warrick choked out his litany of guilt over and over, Nick rubbed his neck, his back, kissed his ear, his cheek, his temple, reassuring him than someone forgave him his actions, even if he couldn't forgive himself. Nick kept it up until Warrick had finally poured out his regret and anger and grief, then he guided Warrick to the sofa. 

Warrick dropped bonelessly onto it, and after shedding his jacket, Nick sat close beside him, draping one arm across the back of the sofa so he could toy with the short dreads. "You'll have a meeting with IA," he said quietly. "Probably get an official reprimand in your file and four or five days off without pay. At least that's what I was hearing around the department. Hopefully it won't be more than that."

"I don't care what happens to me," Warrick returned.

"I do."

This was said with such quiet conviction that Warrick found himself unable to speak again. Instead he put both arms around Nick and pulled him even closer.

"What about...Travis? Is that his name?"

"Yeah. He's staying with Matt's sister. Probably will be for--ah, Christ!" Warrick groaned as realization hit. "For the next two years at least."

"Not necessarily."

"Nick, it's a minimum of two years." Warrick closed his eyes, "Jesus, I should have checked for Matt. I had no business tracking down Jaycobs in the first place--"

"Minimum of two years for a felony," Nick pointed out.

"That's what I just said," Warrick wished Nick would stop harping on that.

"Rick, how many crimes have we seen pled down? We've seen cases much more serious than this pled down to misdemeanors," Nick smiled when Warrick began to nod slowly. "Cases where the accused hadn't done any kind of good for society the way Mr. Phelps has. Or cases where there weren't such extenuating circumstances."

Warrick couldn't wrap his head around it. Usually CSIs found themselves on the other side of this argument. "But any assault charge is an automatic--"

"Malicious mischief, then. Hell, even trespassing--it's possible. It's happened before."

"No," Warrick shook his head. "After his kids, every cent Matt has goes back into that rec center. He's probably going to have a public defender--even if he doesn't, he certainly can't afford the kind of lawyer whose going to work _that_ hard."

"I figured that. There's always the chance the community could raise the money, but what you need is a PD who is on their way up, or someone with an eye on entering politics--they're the ones who could take a case like this and run with it. Someone who really wants to make a point. It would be ideal if you could find a PD with a crusader mind set, but those are harder to come by all the time." Nick was silent for a moment while he considered, not noticing that Warrick was practically gaping at him. "Even better would be to find a defense attorney who is any one of those things. They might be willing to take the case pro bono, even though it's not exactly high profile. Possibly get Mr. Phelps time served and community service--which would be a bit ironic." He finally noticed Warrick's flummoxed expression. "What? Not possible?"

Warrick felt himself smiling for the first time in days, once he got over his initial surprise at how easily Nick laid things out. "Y'know, I always seem to forget that you were raised surrounded by lawyers." He chuckled a bit at how that sounded, "Almost like saying you were raised in the jungle by wolves."

"You're a little out of line there, Warrick," Nick said flatly, throwing Warrick off balance. Before he could even begin to form an apology, Nick added, "Wolves don't live in the jungle, do they?" 

The teasing look Nick shot him from under his lashes made Warrick forget his problems for the time being. "Think you're funny?" he asked, unable to keep his own grin at bay.

"Little bit, maybe," Nick closed the distance between them to give Warrick an equally teasing kiss.

Warrick returned it with one of his own, but suddenly felt his good humor slipping away like water.

Nick noticed immediately. "What? What's wrong?"

"I just...I wish Matt could meet you is all. Hell, I wish Gran could meet you."

"I met him once," Nick reminded him. "And I already know your Grandmother."

"I mean I wish they could know who you are," Warrick trailed his fingers along Nick's cheek. "Who you are to _me._ "

"I know," Nick's expression softened, and he turned slightly to kiss Warrick's fingers. "It's probably a little easier on me, since my family are all in Texas." He sighed and rested his head on Warrick's shoulder.

Warrick laid his cheek against the short, silky hair as he thought back over the eight months they'd been together. They'd gotten closer while Nick was still recovering from the Nigel Crane ordeal--Nick had stayed with Warrick until he'd found a new place. It was during this time that Nick finally told Warrick what he hadn't even told his shrink--about his fear that Nigel Crane had figured out his well-hidden preference for men, and that was the cause for the man's obsession. That Warrick had been shocked was a massive understatement, but it did make it easier to admit--a few days later--his own bisexuality. The rest was inevitable.

It had been a mutual decision to keep the whole thing quiet, neither of them were out to their families, and neither wanted to risk the tentative relationship. Since they were already close friends who spent a lot of time in each other's company, they didn't have to make too many adjustments, anyway. Now though, things were fairly solid between them and secrecy was becoming a burden. Warrick didn't want to have to worry about how often Nick's truck was parked at his place or whether his jeep remained in Nick's driveway for too long. If Nick had a problem with it, he certainly hadn't shown it, and Warrick wondered when it would be a good time to broach the subject.

"So do you think it's possible?"

Warrick blinked, then met expectant brown eyes. "Possible?" he asked, wondering what he'd missed.

"Mr. Phelps' case?" Nick clarified, giving him a perplexed look.

"Oh," Warrick snuck in another kiss before continuing. "I'm so sure it can work that I was already thinking about something else." 

Nick looked pleased. "Really?"

"Absolutely," Warrick shifted gears back to helping Matt. No longer a difficult thing to consider since Nick had listed a multitude of possibilities. "As an investigator, I'll have to stay out of this part, but if I mention everything you said to Toni, she'll just run with it."

"Toni?"

"Antonia Munroe," Warrick explained. "Matt's sister. Trust me, she's a woman who knows how to get things done."

"Yeah," Nick's eyes searched his face. "So...you okay? I know it was...you feel better, though, yeah?"

"Yeah." Warrick leaned back against the armrest until he was almost horizontal, and pulled Nick on top of him as he went. "You feel pretty damn good, too," he said, sliding both hands under Nick's t-shirt.

"This wasn't exactly part of the plan," Nick said, but he was smiling.

"Oh?" Warrick grinned back. "What was the plan?"

"Well--" Nick wriggled slightly when Warrick's fingers skimmed his ribs. "No fair tickling, man," he protested, making Warrick grin even more. "I...y'know...wanted to make sure you were okay. Cheer you up, I guess. If I could."

"Trust me," Warrick slid his hand down to cup one denim-covered cheek. "I'm cheering up."

"Okay, then," Nick traced his fingers down the buttons of Warrick's shirt. "I guess this is part of the plan." Nick began following his nimble fingers with his lips.

Warrick's eyes slid shut as Nick finished opening his shirt, baring his chest and immediately lavishing attention on first one nipple, then the other. He cupped the back of Nick's head, practically purring at the sensation of Nick's wicked teeth and talented tongue. Then Nick began kissing his way back up to Warrick's lips, stretching luxuriously along the larger body beneath him. Warrick opened his legs wider so Nick's groin was cradled more snugly against his.

Nick stopped kissing him long enough to murmur against his cheek, "What do you want, Rick? Tell me."

"You," Warrick growled. "On your back. In my bed."

"What a coincidence. That just happens to be part of the new plan."

"Lucky me," Warrick said, giving the tempting ass another squeeze.

Both their erections were obvious, even through the denim, and Nick moved his hips teasingly before getting up off the couch. He pulled Warrick up with him, and Warrick let the momentum carry hard up against Nick, almost toppling him back the other way. Nick laughed, because while he tried to regain his balance, Warrick took blatant advantage and managed to put his hands everywhere on the pretense of "helping."

Still laughing, Nick lifted his arms so Warrick could strip off his t-shirt and explore every inch of exposed skin. Shivering with pleasure, Nick fumbled with Warrick's belt until Warrick finally shoved his hands away. "You worry about yours and I'll worry about mine," he said, giving Nick a gentle nudge toward the bedroom.

Nick didn't need to be told twice, and headed for the bedroom, unfastening his jeans as he went. Warrick paused briefly to admire the view, then followed, shedding his jeans and shorts so quickly he was able to toss them aside just inside the door. He smiled at the sight of Nick waiting for him on the bed, condom in hand.

Although Nick rarely needed much preparation, Warrick never let him go without _any_ , so he reached into the night stand for a familiar tube. He had time to loosen the tight opening with two fingers while Nick rolled the condom on him, then he pushed Nick's legs up and back and slid home. 

Groaning, Nick gripped Warrick's hair with both hands and pulled him down for a devouring kiss. Warrick tried a few slow thrusts, smiling when Nick made that whimpering sound in the back of his throat that indicated he had just the right spot. Breaking off the kiss so he could watch Nick's expression, Warrick moved harder with every thrust, shifting just enough for a minuscule change of angle each time.

"God..!" Nick panted, alternating between grabbing bunches of sheets or Warrick's back. "Warrick...oh...War _rick_!"

"Who else makes you feel like this, baby?" Warrick growled, biting gently on Nick's ear, then a bit harder on his neck just below. "Who else?" He already knew the answer, but never got tired of hearing the words.

"No one...just you..." Nick barely managed to gasp, and Warrick could hear how close he was. "No one ever--oh, _god_!" Nick's muscles locked and strained, the closeness of their bodies providing all the friction he needed to send him sailing over the edge.

Warrick felt a warm stickiness between them, fusing their bodies together, and drove in as deeply as he could. Nick's arms and legs tightened around him convulsively, and Warrick cried out Nick's name over and over as he came.

Nick let his legs fall to the mattress, but kept his arms wrapped around Warrick. With his lips against the pulse point in Nick's neck, Warrick waited until his brain was able to function again, then carefully--and regretfully--pulled out. He got up to get rid of the condom and returned from the bathroom with a damp cloth he used to clean off himself and then Nick, who barely stirred under his ministrations, although he did rouse slightly when Warrick climbed back into bed.

"I'll go in a little while," Nick mumbled.

His statement was nothing out of the ordinary. It was what'd they'd both done since the beginning. Rarely did either vehicle remain parked at the other's place for much longer than it would take to watch a football game. It was a familiar pattern, one they'd both become accustomed to, so there was no reason for the words to make Warrick's heart hurt. There was certainly no good reason for him to say-- "Stay."

"Stay?" Nick echoed.

Warrick wanted to explain his request. He wanted Nick to know that he no longer cared how long Nick's truck stayed parked out front or who saw it. That after today he knew he'd never find anyone as perfect for him as Nick and it didn't matter to him who found out. All that came out was-- "Stay."

"Really?" Nick's voice was barely audible.

To Warrick it almost sounded like he was afraid to believe what he was hearing. Should he be that surprised, he asked himself ruefully, that Nick had hidden any fears under that sunny disposition of his? "Really," he repeated, never meaning anything more in his life.

With a soft sigh, Nick turned and buried his face in the crook of Warrick's neck.

"Really," Warrick murmured once more, then drifted off to sleep.

  


END


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